This is my 100th post!

No celebration, just a few things that have been interesting to me over the past couple of days.

My uncle Robert took a trip a couple of weeks ago to Maine to celebrate his birthday. The man wanted Maine lobster for his birthday, and by George, he was going to drive right to Maine to get it. Oh, did I mention he went all 3,495 miles on his Harley? File this under things that sound pretty exciting and awesome, but that I could never in a million years do. See also Cousin Nina's hiking passion. The woman is going to walk from Mexico to Canada next year. She has also walked from Georgia to Maine and several places in between. That's right, walked. She didn't even have a Harley. Yes, those are the more adventurous, brave members of my family.

Now on to my life...

I went to City Hall this morning for reasons I won't mention because I am admittedly the poodle-toting fascist snob of the neighborhood and my father would be ashamed of me. Brandon's City Hall has recently moved and the police station is now in it's place. I didn't know about the move, and assumed that the "We've moved" signs on the front of the building were concerning the water department because surely City Hall didn't move to that dinky building behind Blockbuster. Indeed they had.

My point behind this whole story is that government workers here really are nice. They smile, they are friendly, they are quick, there are no numbers you must take, there are no lines to wait in. The lady at what is now the police station told me that even though the signs in front are still the same, that building no longer houses City Hall at all. She was so happy about it and just so sparkly and I was happy about that. I went to City Hall and everyone was very nice, even after I made my fascist demands. After I did make my fascist demands they did a little good natured ribbing, which is alright, seeing as how I participated in the ribbing and all.

I love the South.

Saturday was the one-year anniversary of the day we closed on our house and moved in. It also marked the one-year anniversary of our builder's receipt of our punch list and some of the stuff is still not done, or has been done so shabbily that it must be redone.

I'm gonna go do the laundry now. But in celebration of my uncle, I'll ride a Harley from the laundry room to the closet whenever I fold laundry. Just kidding. I'll walk in celebration of my cousin.